The Valentino Brothers in: the Las Vegas Buyout- Chapter 2

Santiago's beige dress shoes echoed a rhythm of staccato as he slowly walked down the sparkly and polished corridor of the Venetian hotel. Click-Click, Click-Click. He gazed at a large painting that accented the deep-red velvet walls of the corridor. It was the famous painting of a Greek god eating his son's head, looking completely powerless and ashamed while doing so. He approached suite number 1007- a large penthouse accommodation on the top floor of the Venetian. Santiago reached into his pants and pulled out his .38 snub-nose revolver. He shuddered as he rubbed three adjacent bullet wounds on his left torso- it would not be the first time he had opened the door to some upscale hotel room, only to be met by two or three gun-wielding assassins trying to take his life. His heart boomed out of his chest as he inserted the key inside of the door knob.

At times such as this, Santiago thought in fear, he wished that he could grab the help of some nearby security guard, or four- to aid him in simply opening doors to hotel rooms. That way he could at least have some.... Unsuspecting and innocent jobber with a security clearance take the brunt of the bullets- they were right downstairs, after all.

But he couldn't do that, lest the police being involved in matters that they had no business. So he clenched his pistol's wooden grip extremely hard before turning the key and throwing the door open. He had a brief flashback of a similar instance out in California, where as soon as he turned the knob on the hotel door, a gunman on the other side let off a barrage of bullets that gave him the wounds he had on his torso today.

The door slammed against the stopper and bounced back into the room, sending out a hollow thud that echoed the silence in the room. The large suite was empty and cold. Santiago cursed, closing the door and locking both the dead bolt and the chain. He got on the phone with room service, placing an order for a bottle of Chivas Regal and a bottle of Angostura bitters. He demanded that they send the bottles up at once, and he also demanded that upon arrival, room service was to knock three times and then leave the bottles on a cart directly in front of the eye-hole on the door. "Anything else?" the pleasant phone clerk inquired. "Sure, a slice of plain cheesecake with five pieces of bacon on top, and a bowl of butter pecan." Santiago then hung up the phone. He walked over to the balcony door of the hotel and opened it allowing the dry desert air to invade the room. Just then, there were three sharp knocks at the heavy wooden door.

Santiago approached the door immediately, peering out of the hole. He saw a middle-aged Hispanic woman that did not get the knock-and-leave memo. He sighed and opened the door just as the woman knocked again.

"Hola," Santiago said. "Gracias." The woman smiled. "Mi placer!" She then pushed the cart into the room, setting the items on a tray table in the middle of the room. She then hurriedly walked out of the door, closing it behind her. The bacon on top of the cheesecake filled the room with a savory and delightful aura. Santiago licked his lips as he walked over to the door, locked both sets of locks, and then approached the tray table. He poured a scotch with no ice and then dropped a few bitters into the drink. Santiago then stirred the drink by swirling the cup in his large hands a few times.

Delighted, Santiago stripped off his dress shoes and socks. He then took a long drag from the strong drink and turned on the large television at the center of the room. He turned the dial until he found the world news channel. The BBC was covering the wedding of Lady Dianne Spencer. Santiago turned the television volume up loud before taking his drink, as well as his savory piece of cheesecake to eat out on the balcony.